poetry & things


The orchard

There was an orchard

lemon trees as far we could see

a memory of neroli flowered breeze

I was running in the scented rows of yellow

in a dream, you were always catching me

ever the days, when sunlight seemingly chased the moon away

there in a school, where we lingered in the sweetest lessons

of our lives and trees

Picking wildflowers in Hope

When I return to Hope

it will be the height of summer’s warm July

I’ll stroll the gravel road to take the cutoff path

gathering lupine wildflowers, breezy among the dewy grass

make my morning way along heaven’s labrynthine trail

with chirping cheery bird, sweet songs or distant calls of loon

where blue of sky is woven wild with magenta all abloom

and I will lose myself most complete

immersed in nature’s room

Garden in early Spring

Paper trees

winter still lingering

soon begins water ice trickling

big eyed, dogwood blossoms, rain

pink cherry flowers blooming mad

snow of paper petaled lawns

gardens whisper underground

in colored arrangements

awaiting dawn

Cape perpetua

I could write messages to the sky

climbing to the top of this summer mountain

digitalis pink, swirling sweet with bees

this place, tangled all in green

At the overlook, I am with trees

windward hanging on, dream

to fly away, a seabird ocean soaring

my mind of paper kite, adrift

through clouds of sky

Smell of moss and cedar

release of incense

in the warming sun

footsteps, fragrance

soaking deep


This must be Eden’s

color of azure water

glinting flecks of sun

transforming turquoise blue

that my reflections go

diving in

Breadth of love


the door

of your heart


soon will come

leaving sorrow

far and gone

from this


Lilting, lull

of ocean’s

gentle waves

seashells play

songs of love





the rise

and fall

of love’s


Winter reflection

Snow is falling

lightest snowflakes float

across fields deep


densely slow

my feet

Night is glowing

snowy owl flies

from sight

lost in moon clouds

fading light

Stars are humming

in fields of velvet


the earth

the universe

the breath and pulse

of life

Wild sea

Your hair,

of smoke, it floats

curls adrift, waves

of wild sea, upon your head

I gazed long into the storm

before my hands ever

learned to swim

When I drive the old road

sometimes perfect suns

stream through my dusty windows

memories of you, in sepia colors undone

the breadth of days long gone

all of this

each time I go

driving by

Until the Spring



a garden

losing ground

cold and deep

my feet in

buried snow

sometimes pale ghosts

of winter whisper

in the footprints

that I follow

long, until the


This temple

Sword ferns warming

some unfurling toward the sun

deeper green the moss grows softly underfoot

forest fog the breadth of morning breathing

grey, pale lichen clinging

a snow melt creek splashes running

clouds break away to light the day

the shine of mossy flowers sunning

this church it has no walls

no doors to lock nor ticking clocks to read

only of the sacred does this wooded temple sing

and I so humbled bow beneath

resplendent evergreens

These sheltered words

If these words be thy home

salvation for my soul to dwell in

let them be of love

no beginning

no end

tarnished notes

better to go barefoot, on glass

running to catch trains,

going anywhere

one way

to find you are real

blood stained tracks

to make you feel

go far from loveless rooms

where monsters stir

under bitter yellow moons

leave behind hollow tarnished flutes

playing cruel notes

of a blinded, deafening past

play loud

a new song

blissful notes ever



Today only clouds

white, blue, grey

always they hover

mingle in tallest trees

too far my eyes

to see

winter sky

pale light

soft, silent


passing by


I think


dream of you

how you speak

to me

never knowing

my name

Shells and waves

Who can think straight

spinning in seas of shells and waves?

Tireless tides play a game, of dragging in and out

marooning or tossing one about.

Many sailing ships adrift, you’ll see passing by,

or weathered wooden boats, some row and row,

to the edge of earth, foggy

never dreaming they

can fly.

Sepal and Petaled

long silky filament

curved, reaching for stars

peduncle, sepal and petaled

ovule, jewel – seeds of renewal

encased in velvety red

pollen explosion, pistol potion

anther tipped stamen bled

evening stars now far-off shine

bees drowsily dream

in wax house, honeycombed hives


She was speaking

butterflies floated from her lips

fragile wings

caressed your mind

together, entwined

you flew

fragrant petals were her pillow a scented garden filled your room

you were dreaming,

roses soft, laid

upon your bed

a morning of golden sun

compassion, salvation of sacred dawn

they were barren

void of masks

becoming utterly


rainforest in spring

forest path of light

visions in gradient greens

incense of wooded rain

puddling streams

splash awakened in

bliss of dream

faerie orchids

rest upon mossery

scented rain

sprinkles on

hues of


Path (10w)

a path

invitation, hesitation

elation, compassion

a truth

intuition led

Ojo caliente

Red table mesas

Whitest clouds dot to dot sky

Healing waters run

Of you

Of you,

I speak of

softest petals, always kissing

flowers, full bloom

wet drops, your reddened lips

pour darkest cherry wine

all the day, watercoloring

my skies

Meadows green

Ever twisty they climbed – the vines

the tree was speaking low, so slow – the breathing

roots were diving deep, so deep the breath, the depth of grieving

concentric soul, go within to flow, letting go, it’s time the past was leaving

born a child, wild as smiles, dance in meadows green

with joy your heart is weaving

and when the night starless looms, you’ll bloom

your heart, open as a flower

Lost in green

When I was a child

making my way, always to a forest

obsessed by green, or light

shining through greens

that is how I lost my mind

never even knowing it, or why?

No explanation needed

for a child, crazy

deep in bliss.

Like some birds

When white wings, feathery scatter

silent as snowflakes gather

resting on rooftops,

in death, does a soul linger,

does it fly in the vastness

of forever?

Like some birds in clouds

we’ve never seen, though

felt in rain, or wilds.

Swift a rush that chills

and floods the heart unknown,

a gift of truth reveals

that which eyes cannot look upon,

and only hearts

can feel.

with the recent passing of my Father, it’s good to know his presence is felt, at times in unexplainable ways, but also he has appeared in my dreams 3 or 4 times since he passed, with two of the dreams being deeply spiritual and profound to me.

India spice (10w)

Ceylon cinnamon tea,

cardamon, ginger

from painted cups,

drank she

In other countries

Somewhere in a dream

in other countries, never mapped, a man was speaking

though I did not understand, there was never any plan

and I listened to the wind and rain upon the trees.

With no church bells to ring, and birds were the chorus

There in the forest, a silent steeple stood standing on it’s own

now a wild bird’s home, wrapped in thorny vines

a crown that stained, red berries bled upon my hands.

Mary was there too, she was looking through

a broken window pane, whispering my name

and too, the forest sang, bathing me in love

and with the birds I flew, silently into

a deeper dream, until I woke at dawn

to fragrant flowers on the lawn

remembering such heaven.

If love be a fire – unfolding

Of Spring I dream…

cool moss alive in verdant green

with cherry flowers – petals fall like snow

our footsteps pressing in

dissolve cold snowy lands

in the heart of sun

love, born of fire


How long the night?

When evening’s

long shadows come shooting

swift as arrows piercing stars, darkening this world

leaving gold amber hills in underworlds, far until tomorrow.

How can we know the difference, but for light of day

and if the sun does not come, how long would

such a strange night be?


Mourning – you flew over indigo waters,


Stealthy stalker you walked the shallows

billing silvery minnows

On rust red stilts, you’re built

to move in watery fields

Eyes piercing depths of algae blooms

rippled, your swaying seaweed room

Silent hunter,

feathery plumed

Haiku for two

She loved the pale moon

he traveled beneath night’s sky

woven by starlight

Endless as stars

Your eyes of clear water oceans, endless as stars

and seas I’ve crossed – a perfect tide gathered me whole

healing waters washed our days, birds of fluted music played

Breathing in

the rhythm of wind

we float, suspended as the stars

surrendering to the hypnotic glow of moon

We who lay

our troubled hours

soft on maiden ferns

never a lesson, but

for love’s sake

shall we ever need

to learn

early morning snowflakes

Buoyant snowflakes sideways crashed

dripping down grey window glass,

stinging winds blew harsh – the lash

of winter.

High in pines, do they shiver,

nesting birds deeply hidden?


do they warmly slumber,

with downy feathers, nestled under,

night’s darkest cold, before

the light of dawn?

Yesterday’s child

There were birds, and yesterday’s flowers,

the children laughing, never noticed fall retreating

or when winter began, forest faeries sprinkled snowflakes,

sparkling to cover the land, with magic until the Spring again,

when all their days were deep in lilies, silken petals

held dear in tiny hands, and very soon

Summer berries, reddest cherries

were laden sweetly, solely

just for them.

Winter shades

Lily white the mountains disappearing into sky,

silence of snow, growing ever deep the day and fades away,

I cannot tell where cloud meets dell, on such a winter’s eve.

Night will glow in moon tones, cold the foggy grey,

stars will shine for another, some other world away.

Dark and light, void of color, a palette

in winter shades.

Unknown poet

It was as if they wrote only to set us free,

never thinking twice about the landing or flight,

plowing dirt fields, with scores of prose, in sorrow and delight.

In a room of sun, where seasons come

with snow and rain, and none will ever be the same,

long after the reading, and none will ever know the poet’s name

or why the words have opened wide

their buried hearts

to grieving.

Today – goodbye forever

Today – it came suddenly, like rain it came in sheets, stormy without warning

it left nothing to repair, no way to undo the longing, swift we fell, fumbling

as you flew far, forever and gone

with no one to find you

again at your home

Somehow I felt you smiling or knew you’d be laughing,

dancing in daisies, barefoot and singing Sinatra

on the other side, sweetly

by now

I lost my Father today, this just popped into my head. I hope to write something more poignant and meaningful about this loss in the coming days. A very sad day indeed my friends,


Oak tree

In childhood days of dream, with grassy greens,

and swings we soared the warmest breeze,

in blue skies of laughter.

Under a canopy of wonder,

we laid under, O’ the hours of summer slumber,

the lazy slow of watching meadow flowers grow.

Spring it sings in budding greens and seeds

with rain and sun, the days you’ve grown

acorns planted for rebirth

I press my hands to your trunk

and feel myself divinely rooted to this earth.

Morning at Lithia Park

The road unpaved, waved in winding red

high pines unfettered, buried feet under needles – strawed

Warmth of sap, fragrant, piney bled

Lithia springs ring clear, a tumbled water song

Owl tree softly spoke

to newborn lily fawn, caressed by mourning cloak

Sun begins to edge the hills

wings rise, and flies the morning fog

Fritillaria bends the light, leaning into

daybreak’s mantra song

* Mourning cloak (Nymphalis antiopa) – common butterfly, found in many parts of the world

Little Spruce

green forest child

you grow in sponge drenched soils

drawing me in – an epiphyte longing

sunlight piercing raindrops

of lettuce lichens drinking

mosses soaked, greening

softly underfoot

Language of birds

Far away

it must have been another world or looked a different planet,

the earth red as fire all the mountains wide, dawn of painted skies

banyan trees caressed the landscape, we rested under, dreaming

words echoed through vast rock walls

that seemingly had no end

drifting up and out the canyon, mingling with clouds

to fly away with birds, the words are floating in the air

connecting all the world

in the birdsong

that we hear

Boneyard road

In that place where skies go swift and black

storms steal your silk and shiny petals

fading into yellow.

When words reign cold as winter rivers

running dark toward the shadows

strange roads, desert bones

can leave you deathly hollow.

What the heart knows

Soul you speak to me, calling from far off planes

voice of wisdom, your power swirls round me

gentle as petals, you lift me from the fire

all ignorance forgiven

leaving only and indelible burning

of love in the heart


There is no river winding, trickles splash, vanish

silty waters stone cold, gone

glacial icy blues fading fast

recede deep into

our past

soon recalling


not even our


Three Flickers

Three flickers outside my window, smiling – I searched for meaning,

I wished forever joy could stay,

but one, two, three, they flew away

and with them took the fading sun

with clouds and rain soon falling down

now waits tomorrow, with shadows and sun

with joy and sorrow, the birds will come

Some roads

Certain roads will beckon, haunted in their calling

enticing dreams, caress your head in pillows soft,

surreal, they wield black magic

leaving you stranded on roads unimagined, to unravel

dragging home, long through

dirt and gravel

Drink sweet the night

When evening comes, the end of day

drink sweet the honey roses

and toast we two, day’s farewell

the sun to slip away

Til’ night appears fast before

a pearly blackened sea

Shells will sing

of warming winds

whistling through the hollows

A song of stars sparkling loud

humming skies of

moonlit ocean

To be a bird

Bright chartreuse edged, magenta flowers, with lavender

just beyond in the bee fields of summer, thousands of seeds, days spilling over

planted in early autumn rains, to wait again, dotted in red rows of poppies.

Today no clouds will come

only purple mountains glow, before the sun

beyond these fragrant hills, I wander

watching hawks and sparrows

til the golden day slips away

and I am lost between the space

of night and day, and lose all trivial words

and think how glorious

to be a bird

The madness of man (Fukushima)

No more to swim in your bluest seas, farewell my dear Pacific,

long did you sustain a myriad of lives, true unimaginable bounty,

you gave all for free and still we stole your life away.

Goodbye salty sea air, no more to breathe your sweetness.

Soon a plume shall come, raining poison death upon us,

watch for wicked winds of radiation,

to silent creep, and deadly seep into

soil and irrigation, you mustn’t eat

of tainted wheat, now flee thee to

south of the equator.

Thanksgiving (haiku)

To the trees, to sun

to birds and the ways of love

to breath – I thank you


Looking to the skies, sifting stars and lies – you dream,

someone waiting at the gate, watching very late the night

Talking to trees, swirling circles breeze, windy autumn

leaves you to fall, sailing golden ships

red and yellow slips, arduous trips will take you

Whispers shake the soul, only you will know

drums of heartbeats

that awake you

Grey woods

Grey woods, morning mist

hangs upon the trees, leaves decay, sway

falling to the ground

Quiet – this world, but the sound of rain

washing wet the berry vines, droplets

falling to the ground

Sparrows flit among sheltered branches,

nest’s to repair, twine and twigs

falling to the ground

Barren wind

It came hollow as carved bone and cold

strange as moon glow shrouded in mists of fog

it blew breathless, deep as darkest space unnamed

with towering waves it came

crashing silent upon the earth and sea

Sun stars melted.

Who will light candles for them?

For whales, seals and the

fallen humans?

in response to Fukushima and the ongoing nuclear assault occurring on earth 🙁

and still they want more, total insanity.

The human field

And so they came to grow and grow, some flourished wild – under days of golden suns,

some never planted, only blew lonely across the fields of splitting winds

til a drifting life can no longer hold the certain breath of death

swallowed once again by the welcoming earth

a wildfire ignites, burning only for rebirth

life springs anew born of ash and fire.


Stone cold, the blackening sky, stole our field of flowers,

soon seeds of dandelions washed away

in watercolor charcoal skies

gone grey.


all the brightest colors

a mourning



Through wooded fog

fades the day, abandoned to the grey,

lost road, lost home – belonging to no one

Pictures found upon a mantle, dust and charcoal,

photos framed in rusty metal,

sepia shadows, a broken mirror

Collections of rocks and bones,

letters and sealing wax,

china cups, stained and cracked

Musty pages of paperbacks,

remnants of a life long ago.

Memories, pressed flowers of fading bells,

little relics, loved

so well

Not too pretty (haiku)

Lies, sins, pretty grins

a face to dance you away

spins your days so grey

Deeper wood

Vine maples branch,

dappled paths lit green

Forest fronds reach for skies unseen

In deeper wood comes black of day

red cedar’s fallen to decay

Oxalis spring – softly flowered white

sway and lean into the light

Wild berries burst, upon a mossy floor

drinking sweet, red wine poured

mouse and bird drunk with delight

cozy sleep their woodland night


Pale white or maybe slightly gray, blue

looking through – little holes, grains of sand, blowing through

tossed about this stormy day, ocean spray

you can’t hold, lapping waves.

One day whispers will caress

your ears, salt and tears

You may break or drift, you can never tell

storms of love, pearls

and shells.

In a dream

In a dream, somewhere in other countries, never mapped

a man was speaking, though I did not understand, there was never any plan

and I listened to the wind and rain upon the trees.

With no church bells to ring, and birds were the chorus

I came upon a silent steeple in the forest, standing on it’s own,

became a wild bird’s home, wrapped in thorny vines

a crown to stain, with berries, bled upon my hands.

Mary was there too, she was looking through

a broken window pane, calling out my name

and too, all the forest called, bathing me in love.

Then with the birds I flew, heavenly into

a deeper dream, til I awoke at dawn,

to fragrant flowers on the lawn

remembering such heaven.

Chaparral (haiku)

Sweet desert fragrance

perfume lingers in my mind

long after the rain

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